


A very late very incomplete collection of femslash fics

by Abra_ca_fuck_you



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: And so is everyone else, Dances and Disguises, F/F, Im in love with adaire ducarte, Love Letters, Play in the Dark, i love describing bullshit scifi outfits, i love mothkin, they're just very gentle and domineering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 14:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15709008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abra_ca_fuck_you/pseuds/Abra_ca_fuck_you
Summary: so these were written for femslash week, and instead of packing for college im publishing them.





	1. Dances and Disguises

The fancy parties are her favorite. No matter how much Cass protests, or AuDy is... AuDy, Mako always finds the jobs, and Aria always accepts them. Getting paid and getting paid well is really just a bonus.

Aria is wearing a semi transparent veil that drapes from a pin in her widow's peak to her earrings, as well as a necklace that projects an alternative facial structure to the inside of that veil. Mako is on her arm, wearing a cape that is really just several hundred glow sticks tied together.

Cass is wearing some well draped robes in a stately sea foam green, and AuDy has even ditched their police vest and sunglasses for a scarf that matches. The only part of this plan that Cass likes is how well planned it is. The pair of them take post on the balcony overlooking the dance floor, and they watch. Mako will (reluctantly) remove his cape and slip away to fog security systems, so Aria can trick a masked dancer into thinking that she is their contact.

But Mako's glow stick cape clatters when it hits the ground, and Aria's masked dancer is way hotter than she expected. Seven feet tall in a tailored suit, with an ear of silver piercings sticking out from behind a green mask.

Aria needs to pull their attention from Mako. She places a bold hand on their wrist and says "Care to dance?" looking up at them through her lashes.

Their face is still turned towards Mako's corner, so Aria takes a risk.

"This is a gorgeous mask," she says, reaching up to nearly touch it.

"Hand carved from wood," the dancer replies.

Aria's fingers land on the smooth wood, and the dancer leans into her touch before Aria's even realized what she's done. She feels like her ribs are free floating, and at any moment, one will poke out between her collarbones.

She pulls her hand away, landing again on the dancer's wrist. "Not much of a dancer?" she asks, doubt creeping into her voice.

"Not used to dancing with someone a foot and a half shorter than me."

"I'm sure my huge personality will more than make up for it."

The dancer laughs, which surpises Aria, as they had been described as stoic and aloof in their stolen document.

And Mako still hasn't given the go ahead to drop the code phrase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was originally gonna b longer (duh) and the plot was actually gonna be that the dancer was jillian red, and then aria tells the story to jacqui who snorts, but i have a full time job and ive been going to bed a 9pm
> 
> im @chickenhuggit at twitter, in case you actually like this n wanna be my fren


	2. Play in the Dark

Adaire is awoken by fluttering sounds outside her tent. It's the dry sound of moth wings and sharp toes. She instinctively reaches for her sore wrist, even before her dagger.

Pulling aside the flap of her tent, she is met by a familiar sight. Dark legs and iridescent talons, the ends of soft white wings grazing the ground. She creeps out further, and cranes her head back, to meet the large dark eyes of the Moth Queen, Rosette.

"Come," she says, in a stolen voice.She offers up a fuzzy hand, with it's own impressive talons.

"Alright, just a moment," Adaire says. She is only dressed in her woolen nightgown, and considers pulling on her heavy coat.

"Now."

"Okay, okay," Adaire mutters. She scoops up her coat, coin purse, and dagger all under one arm. When she leaves the warmth of her tent and stands beside Rosette, her eyes come only to the Queen's shoulders.

"Something to show you," Rosette says, still holding out her hand. Adaire hesitantly takes it in her own, and the soft fuzz tickles her palm.

Rosette takes up a strange cantor out of the clearing, headed east, and Adaire struggles to keep up and hold on to her things. Rosette takes long gliding leaps, flapping her wings on every couple steps, then every other step, then every step. Adaire is dragged behind, desperately trying to keep her feet on the ground with her small hurried steps. And thus she's caught off guard when Rosette finally takes to the sky. At first she trips, but is once again pulled off her feet. But she has hardly a moment to struggle, when shes tucked into the branches of a tree. Snow shakes down around them, several flakes landing in Adaire's bangs and lashes.

Rosette leans in close, and points towards the greying horizon. She has no ability to whisper, but her voice is quieter, as though she fears scaring the moonrise away. "Watch," she says.

And Adaire is breathless as she watches, two moons breach the sky, and cross paths just above the horizon, turning the deep blue sky into a gentle shimmering grey, with the shaking stars, and the shifting clouds.

Rosette chirps and says, "That's all." Adaire feels her cloak placed on her shoulders, the pockets full, but she she glances over, all she sees are leaves, quivering with Adaire in Rosette's wake.

The trees are awash in the moonlight, gossiping in the morning breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for Adaire to be so passive, but I have this strong concept of Rosette trying to court her in mothkin ways, and Adaire is just (literally) pulled along. Like i feel Rosette is very domineering, and it just leaves Adaire softly, gently, whispering "what the fuck"
> 
> If anyone wants to talk about mothkin, i very much love them, @chickenhuggit on twitter


	3. Love Letters

Some of her finest stationary. Adaire would usually save it for floor plans of beautiful churches, or the occasional portrait. But today it is the home of a letter.

A letter she won't even send, what a waste.

A letter she won't even address, what a shame.

Her handwriting is a loopy mess, and she makes no effort to keep it tidy. 

She starts, she stops, she blows out her candle, she goes to bed, and she sleeps. She gives up, gets up, lights her candle, and starts

"It's been so long."

Adaire's pen hovers over the paper and leaves a drip of ink.

"Hella."

She runs out of ink on the "a" so she has to redip her pen.

"I can't help but wonder what you've been up to. It's only my fault, as i have yet to write."

A cricket chirps, probably from under her bed.

"So, how about this snow?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is very poemy, and also very short, and takes place between fall and winter.  
> i have a full time job okay. why haven't i packed for college? i don't know?! at least I didn't fall asleep at 9pm tonight.


End file.
